


for what we have is nothing (but love)

by seawltch



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Mafia AU, Romance, Smut, slight!angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seawltch/pseuds/seawltch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At least Kyungsoo has Jongin to come home to at the end of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for what we have is nothing (but love)

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: slight!angst, mafia!au, leader!ksoo, trophy wife!jongin, crossdressing, smut (slow sex kinda), top!soo, mentions of past abuse/rape (not from ksoo), excessive use of french bc i love french  
> note: i wanted to imagine jongin in lingerie and [this](https://41.media.tumblr.com/dff64142c0499adeac2ad191bfd919f9/tumblr_nwmcccyGHM1r5zj1yo1_540.jpg) and here u go

_Kyungsoo stands before the shivering, sniffling man, watching with an expressionless visage as the brunet struggles to cover himself despite the lack of buttons on his shirt. The bruises and cuts on his face and thin body are visible, even in the dim light of the room, and it doesn’t take that hard of a look to notice similar scars from the past alongside them. The younger man looks terribly miserable, looking up with shining eyes full of misery._

_“Sauve-moi,” he hoarsely whispers, tears spilling down silently over his hollow cheeks, “s’il vous plaît.”_

_There’s a pause, and then Kyungsoo speaks up._

_“Je te peux emmener loin d’ici.”_

  
 

“I asked you a question, so I suggest you fuckin’ answer me,” Minseok spits directly in kidnapped victim’s face, yanking him forward by the tattered collar to look him straight in the eye. The battered and bruised man shudders, his eyes flickering to where Kyungsoo in front of him, surrounded by three other men in pristine suits. They could be everyday businessmen, but this is no ordinary business, and he knows that squeaky chair Kyungsoo sits on is more like a throne.

Kyungsoo looks bored, fingers drumming on his knee as he watches the interrogation with a blank expression. His steel gaze analyzes the captured man’s movements like a hawk, looking for any sort of truth to slip through the cracks. They aren’t strangers. The man, named Baekhyun, is one of his own men, but when Kyungsoo got notice of a snake and snitch in his gang, he had no doubt who it was.

But it’s fun to watch him squirm and squeal, like holding a magnifying glass to an ant.

“I-I don’t know anything! I swear! You gotta believe me, boss! I haven’t done nothing with the Park syndicate!” Baekhyun desperately pleads, his accent slipping through. One of his eyes is reddened and swollen, the same with his bottom lip. His nose is obviously broken as well, and a tooth lies on the dirty floor of the basement in its own tiny puddle of saliva and blood from when it was spat out.

“That’s not what we heard,” Minseok intercepts, knowing Kyungsoo isn’t particularly in the mood to answer pointless pleas. “Word is you give the good intel to Park Chanyeol himself, huh? Is he a good fuck? I bet he is, considering he spends his money on 2000 won whores,” he pauses to snort, dark hair falling into his eyes after a long day. “How else would he have known where that case was hidden? You made Boss lose, not only millions of dollars, but important connections with SM. Not to mention, you haven’t made him happy lately either.”

Kyungsoo glances down at his watch.  _Fuck, only three minutes_.

With a sigh, he slowly stands up, hands buried in the pockets of his two billion won Armani suit. Baekhyun startles and Minseok just looks over with knowing eyes. His shoes, costing more than ten times Baekhyun’s networth, clip against the concrete flooring as he makes his way towards the door, his three men following him closely.

“Have the mess cleaned up in the morning,” he murmurs briefly as the elevator doors part before moving inside.

“Will do, sir,” Minseok offers him a bright grin, and then the chrome doors close, drowning out the sound of Baekhyun’s shrill wail and the ring of a gun being fired.

 

Kyungsoo scrubs a hand over his face as he climbs up the steps of his overly extravagant villa, one of the best homes in Gangnam. His crimson bangs fall from their previously gelled positions, causing him to run a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. He hears his driver bid him the usual goodnight, and Kyungsoo retreats into the sanctuary of his home, bolting the intricate iron and glass door behind him.

Most of the lights are off, as they usually are as there are far too many rooms and too much space, and the man kicks off his shoes before strolling into the kitchen. It’s empty as well, the clock on the stove reading  _12:13_  as Kyungsoo pours himself a glass of whiskey, the small cup clinking against the platinum ring on his left hand. He ends up taking off his suit jacket, hanging it over one of the chairs at the breakfast bar and divesting himself of the holster at his hip and the other over his vest, holding his two pistols. They’re placed carelessly on the counter as he finishes his last sip of liquor.

His ears soon catch the soft sounds of bare feet padding down the staircase, and Kyungsoo smiles faintly as he moves to place his cup in the sink for the housekeeper to take care of later. The man looks up just in time to catch sight of his beautiful lover appearing.

The rose-colored robe with black fur trim is more fitted for an evening gown, but Jongin always insists on wearing the finest things at any time; every item in his wardrobe easily costs over a million won each. Kyungsoo doesn’t mind as the sheer cloth and material doesn’t hide his black lace brassiere from view, nor the matching panties. His makeup isn’t a touch out of place, and his long brown hair cascades down his shoulders in soft, languid waves.

He looks nothing short of gorgeous, especially when a pout settles over his glossy lips and his overall posture reads _I’m pissed_  as he rests against the glass countertop of the bar. Jongin says nothing, and his long manicured nails drum against the glass in a quick pattern.

Kyungsoo states the obvious. “You seem angry,  _ma chérie_.”

“You’re late,” Jongin retorts, “I’ve been waiting for an hour.”

His husband rolls his eyes, sliding his hands in his pockets and feeling the small velvet box in his left one. He knew Jongin wouldn’t be pleased that he’d gotten carried away at  _work_. So he made a little stop on the way home, not that gift would really make him happy, but it’d help. “You know I can’t always be on time.”

Jongin eyes the guns on the counter. “I know,” his eyes flicker back to Kyungsoo’s, “but today is special. It’s our anniversary, and you  _promised_.”

Trailing his fingertips along the edge of the white countertop, Jongin walks around the bar and loops his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck, humming as his husband holds his waist in response. He loves the feeling of Kyungsoo's rough hands caressing his lithe waist - or really any part of his body. Kyungsoo smells like smoke and the familiar cologne he puts on every morning. “You’ll make it up to me, right?” he murmurs into Kyungsoo’s ear before pulling back and smiling sweetly, hands sliding down to rest on the older man’s firm chest, knowing of the tattoos and muscles and every centimeter of skin beneath those clothes.

“Of course,  _mon amour_ ,” Kyungsoo lowers his eyes to Jongin’s glossed lips, a nice nude shade since his lips were already perfect. He can feel the anticipation spilling from his husband, or  _wife_ as Jongin likes to be called sometimes, but the redhead surprises him instead by moving away. He drops one of his hands and reaches into his pocket to retrieve the velvet box and presents it to him.

Jongin squeals, eyes brightening as he snatches it from Kyungsoo’s palm with a smile that shows all of his pearly white teeth. His french manicured nails pry the box open, and his long lashes flutter in excitement as he gazes upon the beautiful white gold ring with interwoven bands with multiple square cut diamonds. It rivals the grandeur of his wedding ring that still rests on his left hand and even his previous engagement ring.

“ _J’adore ça_ ,” Jongin coos as Kyungsoo does the honors of slipping the elegant ring onto his right ring finger.

“I know," the mobster smiles haughtily. "Happy anniversary, baby."

 

It may be true that Kyungsoo likes making Jongin happy, just in general, and that he can be satisfied by simply coming home and seeing his beautiful spouse. But nothing compares to laying him down on the sheets of their bed, in the darkness of the evening.

Jongin's mocha hair spills across the pillows, and his long legs spread carelessly. The black silk tie of his robe is swiftly untied, allowing it to slip from his stomach and pool around his body, sliding down his shoulders and fully exposing his lingerie and bronze skin. Kyungsoo wishes he could capture this moment, like one of the spreads Jongin's modeled in before. But this is all for him, only for him to see.

The bed creaks as he leans in and finally captures those plush lips with his own. Jongin sighs, his hands roaming and combing through Kyungsoo’s hair. There’s always an electric spark that shocks his spine and leaves him in a daze whenever Kyungsoo kisses him. It’s like he can’t get enough, and he moans when their tongues meet, a sting of whiskey remaining, making Jongin wrinkle his nose momentarily.

Kyungsoo snorts as he moves down to press kisses to the column of Jongin’s neck as his hands roamed down Jongin’s sides, running a finger along one of the old scars along his rib, just a faint imprint. He hums in appreciation as his lover starts to unbutton his navy vest and crisp white shirt. Jongin becomes distracted with the kisses mouthed at his jaw, and Kyungsoo takes over, taking off his pesky clothing and tossing it on a lone chair in the corner of the bedroom until he’s only in his gray boxers.

"So sexy, baby," Jongin whispers, hooded eyes appreciating the toned chest he's seen many, many times and the tattoos scrawled down Kyungsoo's arms, giving away his nature.

"I'm tired tonight," the older man confesses, hand tracing up Jongin's abdomen and fingers unclipping the front clasp of his ebony brasserie, the two cups parting from their useless protection of his pecs. Rubbing one of Jongin's soft thighs absentmindedly, he leans down and brushes his lips against one of Jongin's dusky nipples, feeling his lover shiver beneath him as it perks up against Kyungsoo's petal-soft lip. His tongue laves over it just as his fingers skate over Jongin's hardening cock, trapped in his panties.

"Kyungsoo,” the younger whines, bucking his hips lightly and squirming to bring more attention to his erection. His pleas aren’t in vain, luckily, and Jongin moans softly as Kyungsoo rubs his cock through the lace, dragging down the panties just a smidgen until the head of his dick is exposed. The tip is reddened and starts to slowly drip precum on the hairless area below his belly button as Kyungsoo teases it, slowly tracing a finger just around the outline.

Kyungsoo kisses down his chest gently, the light smacks of his lips blending in harmony with Jongin’s breathy moans. He doesn’t hesitate to press his face against the fabric of the black panties, inhaling the musky scent of his arousal before beginning to suck at Jongin’s cock, saliva soaking the fabric. Jongin moans out wantonly and without shame, his legs bending and toes digging into the sheets.

“T-Take them off already,” he begs, thighs squeezing around Kyungsoo’s head in a tiny threat. Kyungsoo grumbles at that but does as told and slides the wet underwear from Jongin’s shapely legs. His small cock lies aching against his lower stomach, and Jongin shifts impatiently, robe sliding further off of his shoulders as his lined eyes meet Kyungsoo’s.

The older man turns his attention to his husband’s smooth thighs, attacking the bronze skin with sucks and kisses. His hand drifts down along Jongin’s bottom until he reaches the pucker of his asshole. Narrowing his eyes, he presses one finger in and notices how easily it’s sucked in when he adds a second right after.

“Prepared yourself for me?” Kyungsoo muses, looking up to view Jongin suppressing a moan with his hand as Kyungsoo's fingers move about inside of him.

"You were,  _ah_ , l-late, so I..." Jongin says in the form of a breathy moan, his legs trembling as Kyungsoo slides his fingers in and out at a rough and quick pace. The squelch becomes more apparent as the redhead fastens his face, watching Jongin's cock jerk and twitch when he rubs against an especially good spot. It drives the younger to the point of forcing himself to resist the urge to touch himself as he lets out gasping sobs.

"Pl-Please, Kyungsoo,  _please_ ," he pleads, looking simply gorgeous with the light sheen of sweat glossing his tan body, his watery brown eyes, and his pouty, swollen lips.

Kyungsoo presses a last tender kiss to his thigh before sliding his digits out. He wastes zero time in taking off his boxers and dropping them beside the bed as he situates himself between Jongin's spread legs, leaning down to kiss him chastely as his hands slide over Jongin’s smooth hips. He then presses loving kisses to the column of his lover’s neck, burying his nose in Jongin’s soft hair, before entering him in a slow, sensual thrust.

Jongin instantly clings to Kyungsoo’s strong shoulders, long nails digging in as if afraid he’ll disappear. It’s not because of the small prick of pain; Jongin hardly ever feels that anymore. It’s for the comfort and the possession - knowing that Kyungsoo is  _his_ and his alone.

His hands trace over the hidden tattoo on Kyungsoo’s back, the large and intricate piece that names him the leader of the syndicate. Kyungsoo’s lips stay right by Jongin’s ear, and he can hear every breath and groan Kyungsoo lets escape as he languidly thrusts into Jongin.

“Mmm, c’mon,” Jongin breathes, hands running through Kyungsoo’s vibrant hair as he pulls him back to face him. “Fuck me like you mean it, baby.”

The older man raises a challenging brow, but he raises himself up, hands pressing into the bedding on either side of Jongin’s torso. He pulls out all the way and pounds back in with strength, a loud slap sounding when their skin meets rather harshly. Jongin cries out in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets to keep himself from sliding up the bed as Kyungsoo fulfills his request.

Jongin admires the arousing sight of his husband in all of his beauty. His plush lips are parted as groans and pants sound from him; his black eyes are alight with burning lust, and his crimson bangs fall into his eyes as his eyebrows furrow. Kyungsoo’s fair complexion is pink with blush and glistened with sweat, and Jongin moans hungrily as he eyes Kyungsoo’s abs that curl and ripple with every movement.

He suddenly moves both of Jongin’s long legs to his shoulders and leans forward to bend him in half. His cock slams into the younger man’s prostate, and then Jongin is screaming out for him, the sounds of his moans echoing through the empty house.

“I-I can’t,  _oh_ ,” Jongin stiffens and comes with a wail, nails clawing at Kyungsoo’s back. The latter winces through gritted teeth, and he pounds into his lover quickly, rhythm falling apart before he finally orgasms as well, releasing inside of Jongin.

Being exhausted as he is, the older man pulls out and rolls over to lie down on the soft mattress, catching his breath. Jongin can’t relax, however, and gets up to strip off his bra and robe, disappearing into the bathroom shortly after to clean himself up. In hindsight, he probably should’ve used a condom, but Jongin complains about it sometimes. Though that’s one of the things Kyungsoo loves about Jongin, strangely. He loves to hear him complain, speak his mind, because it was something he would never do before.

It wasn’t a conventional way that they met - if you could call it a meeting.

It was seven years ago, and Kyungsoo was the young age of twenty-five when he went to France for a business negotiation with some snob whose name he can hardly remember. He was well-taught in the language and stayed for a week, learning quickly that this syndicate was disgusting, and he hardly wanted to go on with the deal if it weren’t for the necessity of it.

And the one thing that made that stand out to him was the presence of sex slaves.

Kyungsoo was hardly a great and charitable man, but he never appreciated the selling of  _human beings_. He wasn’t oblivious to the abuse or force of sex, even if the members of the gang acted like the men and women were begging for their ugly asses. Yet, of course, when the deal was exchanged, the leader of the gang offered (rather  _forced_ ) Kyungsoo to take someone of his choosing.

And when someone as beautiful and broken as Jongin begged for his help, who was he to deny it?

Kyungsoo took Jongin back to South Korea. The man, three years younger, hardly knew a lick of Korean and ashamedly confessed that he lived in France his whole life. He looked like he expected to be hit for that, but Kyungsoo only hired someone to teach Jongin in response. Jongin also thought Kyungsoo would use him, but that never came to be either. The older man only gave him gifts and pampered him, allowing him to sleep in a different room.

But Jongin slowly opened up, and their relationship evolved. With that came the realization that Jongin liked feminine clothes and items. He identified as male but enjoyed having long hair and wearing long flowy dresses and being pretty for Kyungsoo. So he gave it all to him.

They got married two years later.

Kyungsoo is buried beneath the sheets and halfway asleep when Jongin finally walks back into the bedroom. His wig is gone, leaving his normal short brown hair, and he wears boxers as he climbs into the bed next to Kyungsoo, cuddling up to him with a sigh.

“I have a photoshoot tomorrow,” he murmurs.

“I have a meeting...about teacups,” Kyungsoo mumbles tiredly in reply. His actual business is pretty boring - selling fine china. “Can I sleep now?”

“Mmm, yeah, sorry,” Jongin kisses the other man’s jawline, feeling the scratch of stubble. “ _Je t’aime. Tu es mon tout._ ”

“Yeah, love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> trans:  
> sauve-moi, s'il vous plaît = save me, please  
> je te peux emmener loin d’ici = i can take you away from here / far from here  
> ma chérie = my sweet (note: i know i used the feminine ver. even tho jongin's a man but ksoo likes to do that)  
> mon amour = my love  
> j'adore ça = i love/adore it  
> je t'aime. tu es mon tout = i love you. you are my everything.
> 
> i apologize for any errors. i've only been taking french for 2 years :')


End file.
